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Are you not going to dance again, Caspar? Look at all those pretty girls, waiting for partners! Why do you not lead one to the country dance?" As he ended speaking, a sylph-like figure, with long golden ringlets, floated past them. "I can, and I will," replied Caspar, laughing, as he took the fair-haired girl by the hand, and led her to the dance. He turned to address his friend in triumph, but he had disappeared. The dance was over, and Caspar led the stranger towards a silken ottoman. "Will you not try one waltz?" said the beautiful girl, as she shook her ringlets, over his flushed cheek; "but I must not ask you, if you are tired." "How can I refuse?" rejoined Caspar.

Suffice it to say that they often met, and as often parted, on the margin of the little stream, that ran before the door of Caspar's mother's house:--that they became great friends;--and that the young man confided the tale of his love, hopes, and miseries, to the sympathising senior. At last the old gentleman, for such he really was, told Caspar that he would help him in a trice, through all his difficulties. "There is one condition, Caspar!" said he, "but that is a mere trifle. You are young, and would be quite happy, were it not for this love affair of yours:--you sleep soundly, you seek and quit your bed early, and you care not for night-roving. Henceforth, lend me your body from ten at night, until two in the morning, and I promise that Caroline de Werner shall be yours.